Chronicles of the Dragon Pirate

by David Talon

  “Also to show you we no longer do Olde Roger’s will but have free will of our own, as you do.”

  “So who’s your captain now?”

  “We have none,” the Shadowman replied. “A few of us miss not having a leader, and we do tend to argue incessantly before we get anything done, but for the most part we like having free will again. However, we’re worried that others don’t feel the same way, so with your permission I’d like your apprentice to look at something.”

  The captain’s eyes narrowed. “Look at what?”

  “Tracks.” The Shadowman turned towards me as we came to a halt. “Back in St. Augustine, the townspeople used to talk about you behind your back, saying your foster-mother was letting you get too close to the Timucua, that you were becoming one of them. Is it true?”

  I shrugged. “If you mean can I read tracks then the answer’s yes... well, more or less. I mean, I can’t read them like Dancing Bear and the other hunters could, but they did teach me a few things.”

  The Shadowman motioned towards the bare earth just off the road, a few feet from where grass began growing again. “As I was coming to meet you, I saw some strange tracks running alongside the road and I thought you might have an idea what they are.”

  I looked to the captain, who in turn was giving the Shadowman a suspicious look. “Tomas,” he said without taking his eyes off the Shadowman, “take Whistling John’s torch and examine the tracks.” Whistling John handed me the torch and I knelt down where he pointed, Jeremiah leaving the road to join me. Beyond the light of the torch the forest was growing dark, but I heard no other sounds than the normal call of birds beyond where we’d stopped as I let my finger trace the footprint in the bare earth, part of a set running alongside the road. Captain Hawkins said, “Can you tell what it is?”

  “It’s human, sir,” I answered, “definitely not animal. But whoever made it is twisted somehow, because the foot’s elongated and the toes have claws.”

  Jeremiah looked up at me from the footprint. “Are you sure?”

  “Look at the indentations into the earth. Whoever or whatever made these tracks has claws as long as my fingers.”

  “You have a shape-changer following the road,” Captain Hawkins remarked as he motioned for us to rejoin the group.

  Jeremiah and I climbed to our feet and I handed Whistling John back his torch as the Shadowman said, “I thought so as well, but one of the Dark Sisters remaining with us saw the creature when it realized I was coming and it left the road. She told me it’s a hybrid of man and beast, but the spirit inside is human and not a Dragon merged with his dragon-ghost.”

  From the back, Redbeard said, “You be saying this is nae a shape-changer?”

  “I’m saying exactly that. The Dark Sister spoke to the others and neither her sister nor my brothers have ever seen such a creature before today. The Dark Sister told me Bill thinks it’s a creature of the Draco Dominus, brought by the black ship docked on the other side of the island and let loose.” He spat, although nothing came out of his mouth. “They’re a twisted group of humans more than capable of doing such a thing to their fellow man.” Jeremiah gave a derisive snort and the Shadowman glanced at him. “You find aught amusing?”

  Jeremiah looked him straight in the eye. “I find it amusing to hear someone who eats human flesh the way we eat pork call someone else twisted.”

  Instead of being angry, the Shadowman merely chuckled. “If the pig could speak, would it not say the same to you? Why do you eat me, it would ask; have I not a life of my own you are taking away? The truth is that you are acting according to your nature. Men are of a higher order than the pig, and thus a man eats pork, as we eat you. My brothers and I are to be the masters of mankind someday...or so we were led to believe.”

  “So what do you believe now?”

  “That we are the masters of the village called Freehold. We had all the humans living there sign a set of Articles, with their rights and duties clearly spelled out as well as the punishments, and all who signed it now live under our hand, but in peace.”

  Whistling John asked, “What about them who didn’t sign it?”

  The Shadowman merely glanced back at him and smiled.

  The grey-stone road had come to an intersection with three other roads and the Shadowman had led us down the right hand way, his conversation moving to questions about England and how easily a group of Shadowmen could survive there. But as the road curved around a bog and twin lights became visible ahead of us, he stopped in mid-question. “That marks the entrance to Freehold,” he said instead. “We’re almost there.”

  The lights soon became twin dragon-globes hung in rope baskets and attached to wooden poles, one on either side of the road. But as we got closer I saw the light coming from the globes was dim, the bright-fire inside them flickering as if ready to go out. They were also dirty, with forest debris and dirt collecting on the glass. As we passed them by I noticed a wooden barricade started at each pole and stretched outward into the forest. The Mulatto noticed it as well. “Looks like you broke apart a ship to build yourselves a barricade.”

  The Shadowman shrugged. “Humans were violating the Articles by leaving during the day when we were sluggish, and besides, we had a merchant ship unexpectedly dock and we had to do something with it after we took the crew.”

  “What keeps the villagers from just walking out the way we came in?”

  The Shadowman motioned back towards the road behind us. “The bog we passed has a nest of Black Stranglers, sluggish at night but active during the day. One of the women on the merchant ship had the black pox, so Bill gave her to the stranglers while the remaining villagers watched from the road. Made quite an impression.” He turned and motioned ahead of us. “Here we are.”

  Before us were rows of small buildings made of the island’s white stone, each facing the grey-stone road on either side. But unlike the well kept up buildings of Haven, the white walls were covered in vines and small plants growing out of cracks in the stone. The buildings closest to the road were the best maintained, with the ones right behind them much less so, while the ones behind them were so swallowed up that the doorways and windows looked like holes in the foliage. But even there I saw fires burning as hollow-eyed people in clean but tattered clothes watched us pass.

  No one greeted us but only stared as we walked by, the men armed with ill-looking gunpowder muskets or rusty steel swords and axes held loosely in their hands as the women cowered in the doorways of their homes, while stick-thin children peeked out from windows with fearful expressions. The knot of fear returned as Captain Hawkins casually remarked, “The villagers seem ill-disposed towards us.”

  “They mistrust outsiders and with good reason,” the Shadowman motioning towards a large building ahead of us. “You’ll find more cheer in yon inn up ahead.” The building ahead of us reminded me at once of the House of Memory, being just as large with the grey-stone road ending at the base of its white stone steps. In the center was a large archway with two statues flanking it, but instead of warriors they were wingless dragons, standing on their hind legs at least ten or twelve feet into the air. Also, unlike the warrior statues these didn’t look carved but instead seemed molded, like someone had poured liquid plaster over a real dragon and let it harden, the plaster painted black as ink and the eyes red as blood.

  Each dragon-statue had a dragon-globe hanging from a rope-basket attached to its outstretched, clawed hand, and as we climbed the stairs behind the Shadowman, who reached the archway first, he patted the haunch of the right-hand statue as if for good luck. “Captain Hawkins, would you believe there’s an ancient Artifact golem underneath this? The plaster on each was badly cracked when we took over Freehold and we stripped them both down before we let the villagers plaster them over again. They’re not like any golems we’ve ever seen, and the Dark Sisters tell us not only are they made of some material the Dark Sisters call resin, but they’
re both at least several thousand years old.” He chuckled. “Bill tried to get one of them to animate it, and they said the dragon-ghost would have to be a couple thousand years old herself to make it work. Which is a shame, but there it is.” He looked at me with his red-eyed gaze and motioned towards the dragon statue on the left. “If you’d like to examine it, we let the feet remained exposed.”

  Captain Hawkins nodded, and I warily walked over to the large golem covered over in black painted plaster and knelt down beside it. The plaster only went down to the golem’s ankles, leaving exposed its clawed feet, which resembled a lizard’s, what I could see of it as black and shiny as any golem I’d heard of. But its texture was strange I realized, as I brushed away dirt and debris from the scaled foot and ran my hands along it. A normal golem was only as good as the woodcarver’s skill, but the detail of this golem was perfect, each scale slightly different from the others, growing larger in size the farther up the leg they went, until the painted plaster covered it over. It wasn’t only the scales, but where I could see flesh it looked like a lizard’s flesh was supposed to look, not perfect but with striations and pockmarks. I looked up to see Jeremiah standing over me and I pointed at the scales. “Kneel down and touch this: whatever ‘resin’ is, it isn’t anything like wood.”

  Jeremiah knelt down beside me as the Shadowman called out, “Best not to touch it, since the left-hand statue’s considered to be ill-luck.” He gave me a false smile. “Personally, I believe a sailor’s luck is superstition, but I did promise not to allow any of the crew to come to harm.”

  Jade’s voice whispered between me and Jeremiah. “This golem is not un-lucky at all. Resin absorbs all of a dragon-spirit’s strength, so if I enter it and leave I will be drained, but the golem will retain the strength indefinitely, so I could use it, leave, and re-enter later to use it again.”

  I whispered back, “Is it too large or old for you to use?”

  I could hear satisfaction in her voice as she whispered, “Not in the least.”

  From across the stone platform the Shadowman frowned at me. “Is there a problem?”

  “Not in the least,” Jeremiah answered as he grabbed my arm so we rose together. “We were just admiring the details.” We walked back to the others, Captain Hawkins giving me a calculating look but saying nothing as we followed the Shadowman inside.

  The dragon-globes set on stands in various spots around the room gave a stronger light than the ones in the village had, and I was immediately reminded of the mural room in the House of Memory, the size and shape being the same with the ceiling extending upwards into darkness. But any paintings on these walls were long gone, covered over by the grease and smoke I smelled as we walked through the entrance. A fire-pit had been dug into the floor and an entire pig was roasting on a spit, its juices crackling and hissing as they hit the flames, its scent heavy in the air, along with the aroma of tobacco and another scent, sweeter but also cloying in an unpleasant way.

  Wooden tables and chairs were set up in the middle of the room where most of the light was, old men for the most part sitting around them eating and drinking, while a tall African in the back of the room served ale and other spirits from behind a long wooden counter that, from the way it curved around, looked to have been once part of the bow of a ship. Young women in tattered finery and wearing gold drifted between the tables.

  All conversation stopped as we entered the large room, the Shadowman removing his hat as he raised a hand in greeting. “A fine evening, lads.”

  The Shadowman looked young enough to be their grandson, but the oldsters called out, “Fine evening, sir.”

  “Welcome back, good master.”

  “Good to have you returned safe, sir”

  All of the women had stopped what they were doing and now began drifting towards us, a blond haired woman in a green dress with ripped sleeves and her entire back exposed stopped in front of Maria, her thin hand caressing a lock of Maria’s hair. “You’re...so...pretty.”

  “And you’re so fierce,” a dark haired woman in a blue dress, ripped to shreds then repaired, said to Panther, who’d stepped back with her hand on her knife when the woman tried to caress her as well.

  A native woman wearing only a man’s ruffled shirt held up a felt bag that clinked as she shook it. “We bring gifts from the masters.”

  The three women and a fourth, willowy slender with raven black hair and high cheekbones like Selene’s, wearing a dress of tattered red silk, dipped their hands into the bag and began pulling out gold necklaces, rings, anklets, and even a thin gold armband. The first three began fastening the jewelry on Maria and Panther, with Jeremiah and Claude standing beside their ladies watching the strange women like hawks, while the fourth stepped in front of Pepper.

  Her red silk dress had once been the height of fashion perhaps fifty years ago, with puffy sleeves and layers of fabric falling down the skirt like waves. But now the dress was badly ripped and never repaired, one sleeve near torn off as was much of the skirt, and her entire back exposed down to her waist. Her skin was pale as a Shadowman’s, suggesting she hadn’t seen the sun in a long time, which considering who she had to serve, wasn’t surprising. I was beside Pepper the moment I saw the woman move towards her, Redbeard a large shadow at Pepper’s back a moment later, as the woman slipped several gold rings on Pepper’s fingers and a heavy gold necklace around her throat. But then the black haired woman held out a pair of anklets, complete with charms of beaten gold, and handed them to me.

  Bemused, I knelt down at Pepper’s feet, the woman kneeling down beside me as I wrapped the first chain around Pepper’s ankle. She whispered in my ear, “All of you are in peril.” I gave a start, for the voice was Arabella’s, the Shadowhunter, and she touched a finger to her lips a brief moment. “Stay wary,” she whispered as I fastened the hook to the ring on the other end of the chain and moved to Pepper’s other ankle. “The rum punch is laced with opium, but there are several unopened bottles of claret behind the tavern counter.”

  I whispered, “Star, find them.”

  “I’m on it,” she whispered back.

  I attached the other anklet and stood up as Arabella remained on her knees to adjust the gold charms. Pepper gave me a suspicious look, so I leaned in to whisper in her ear, “Arabella says to be wary.” Pepper’s eyes went wide and as I pulled back she opened her mouth to speak. So I kissed her fast.

  From the far, dark corner of the room, a strange voice called out, “Harry, I see yer apprentice is as lusty a lad as you been, once.”

  Captain Hawkins whirled towards the voice as the others put hands to their weapons, the captain calling back, “Bells of Hades, William, where are you?”

  A light flared in the far corner of the room as I released Pepper and we turned to look. Someone began lighting candles, and I saw a long, wooden table set up at an angle in the far, right hand corner in front of an open doorway, several chairs set in front of the table and one chair set behind, giving the man who now sat down a clear shot towards the open doorway behind him, if he wished. “I’m right here,” the man called back, his voice rough as sharp rocks churning the sea into spray as he added, “Come share a drink with yer old shipmate.”

  The Shadowman Tommy gave us a courteous bow. “I prefer not to intrude on a meeting of old friends, so I’ll inform the others you’re here and come back to check on you later.” He turned and walked towards another doorway, next to the tavern counter.

  Captain Hawkins motioned for me to join him at once and I did so, moving away from Pepper, who said, “Captain, I’ll bide here a moment, if you’ll allow. The girl’s got more gold to give me, and I’d like to speak with her. I’ve...been where these women are, in a manner of speaking.”

  “As you will,” the captain replied. “Dava, stay with her.”

  “Aye, captain,” Redbeard replied before lowering his voice. “Harry, remember this nae be the William we both knew.”


  “I know that.” Redbeard gave him a disbelieving look and the captain added with a touch of exasperation, “No one knows how much men change better than I do. Tomas, come along.”

  The Shadowman Tommy left the room as the captain strode towards the table in the corner, and I quickened my pace to match his as the rest of the group followed. I glanced back over my shoulder. Pepper had dropped to her knees beside Arabella, who was now attaching another gold chain to Pepper’s throat as they quietly spoke together, Redbeard standing over them with his arms crossed, reminding me of a grandfather oak.

  As we approached the man sitting in the corner, Star whispered in my ear, “I found several bottles of claret in a wooden crate behind the counter.”

  I whispered back my thanks as the captain gave me a narrow-eyed look. “I hear a lot of whispering going on tonight.”

  Jade’s voice suddenly spoke in a low but urgent tone between us. “Be wary in your speech, for there is a Dark Sister hovering in the corner above William, and her hearing is sharp.”

  Remembering my close encounter with one on the Dutch Flyte, I suppressed a shudder as I said, “Sir, please remember I’m loyal to you, no matter what.”

  His suspicious look resumed its usual stern expression as he turned towards the Shadowman now hailing us. “Harry, it’s been too long. Yer looking unchanged from the last time Olde Bill seen you.”

  We reached the table, scarred and wine stained with a half-dozen previously broken and crudely repaired chairs sitting in front of it, the smell of smoke lessened here from a slight breeze with a salt water tang to it coming from the open doorway, and I got my first good look at the Shadowman. He was old, with a face like a gnarled tree riddled with black fungus, the flat, tell-tale growths of the black pox contrasting sharply with his dead white face. He wore clothes of black leather, his wide brimmed hat on the table beside him, and the shadows from the light of the candles gave his face an evil cast as Captain Hawkins leaned forward. “You as well. Now, before we speak another word I want the gold you promised.”